Crayon Skies

Studded minefields
a treacherous heaven
battletank joyrides
A K four seven

Dried up bread
and empty canteen
oh ! what a paradise
sure it has been

Silence pouring
from innocent faces
gazes boring
in hopeless traces

with leaden eyes
they're asking, why
there's crimson blood
on crayon skies ?

(dedicated to the children of war torn regions)